


ghost, noun

by sapoeysap



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Drabble, Mentions of alcohol, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapoeysap/pseuds/sapoeysap
Summary: this is sort of a drabble intended to be hard to follow.
Kudos: 2





	ghost, noun

'Juno Steel' the voice that belongs to the arms snaked around him says. All low whisper.   
Juno knows it's a memory of a memory. A shadow of a hundred peoples voices.   
The arms he sinks in to are ghostly tendrils of roughly ten of those hundred. Selected out by there relevance to his life.  
The water sloshes around him as he leans back into the comfort of nothingness. The edge of the bath tub more support than sifting through agony.  
Provides better stability than free falling through everything.

'No way for a lady to act' the spectre laughs, echoes with hints of names lost and voices recalled.   
A phrase Juno's heard a million times. Framed by so many different lips.   
It's just the tough hard wall of the bathtub. The walls around him askew because the last time he was in this bath with anyone.   
the last time he dipped into the ghost town of these particular memories, he had both eyes. The water drains rust red,  
'bleeding again' says a voice so clear and true from behind him, before Juno can even formulate the voices owners name, one that evades his tongue.   
It turns into the silk of Nureyev. Juno almost catches the scent of his cologne in the air, buried under the juniper spice of his soap.

Rusty water swirls in the drain, Juno leaves the arms that held him down. The comms he'd abandoned on the side beeps.   
Inseccant rings on the counter. Rita's voice comes through through the answering machine. 

'Mista Steel, there's a case here', She sounds so eager and unburdened. In the way rita always does. 

'Ignore it Rita, it's not worth it. I'm not taking it. Plenty of other hot shot PI's in this city', she's wining enough, trying to force him to follow through.  
It mean's she misses the bitter words that fall from his tongue. 

'I'm too busy chasing ghosts to start thinking about any cases alright Rita', she hangs up on him after a while, like the lost cause he is. Dial tone silence dead.  
The Whiskey burns good on his tongue that night, goes down smoothly. The only arms in his bed are the way the he wakes up sprawled around a pillow, hungover headache pulse and tired eye.

**Author's Note:**

> this is sort of a drabble intended to be hard to follow.


End file.
